“No, no kitten. They jump about. The old cat was so quiet. And I miss him.” A tear rolled down either cheek. “It has been so lonely. Everybody was away.”
“Well, we’ve all come back now,” Rose said.
“Yes, but that Henrietta—she’s deserted me.”
“It was your own fault, Christabel. You horrified her.”
“It should have been you who did that.”
“Things don’t always have the effect we hope for. You said too much.”
“Ah, but not half what I could have said.”
“Too much for Henrietta, anyhow. I don’t think she will come again.”
Christabel smiled oddly and Rose knew that now she was to hear some news. “You can tell her,” Christabel said, “that I shan’t say anything to upset her. I shall say nothing about you—as she loves you so much. Does she love you? I dare say. You make people love you—for a little while.” Her voice lingered on those words. “Yes, for a little while, but you don’t keep love, Rose Mallett. No, you don’t. I’m sorry for you now. Tell Henrietta she needn’t be afraid, because I’m sorry for you. Yes, you and I are in the same boat, in the same deserted boat.
If there were any rats they would run away. You said so yourself.”